


Eileamh a Curadh

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:37:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Sometimes knowledge alone was enough.  After all, sometimes it was all circumstances allowed you to have.  Oh, but to have proof sitting right in the palm of your hand, that made the knowledge even sweeter.





	Eileamh a Curadh

He'd become accustomed to seeing that leather collar and wristband; it still made him smile, thinking of that, Dragon and Dragon Rider. Sometimes, it made him just a bit wistful; they shared with him, her being willing to share without hesitation, without any ill feelings at all, it seemed. While he'd never really understood that, he never doubted it either, and appreciated her generosity, loved her for it. He never felt like less than a full partner when he was with them, his role slightly different with each of them, of course. With the small Englishman, he was lover, plain and simple, well at the Cottage anyway; with her, well, he was partner to her and to his lover.

Yes, it should feel complicated, and when he was away from them, and tried to think on it all clearly, it seemed complicated, and he felt himself getting anxious about this thing he'd fallen into; yet, when he was with them, whether with Goniff alone, or with the two of them, it didn't seem complicated at all, and his anxiety disappeared. He never experienced her alone, had no desire to do so, nor did she. The wiry pickpocket was their mutual love, the link, and only with him did they come together. Still, that collar and wristband, while they made him smile, he felt just a tug of longing when he looked on them, knowing all they meant.

Three long missions in a row, then a stand-down caused by the injuries to both Actor and Casino; Richards had again made sure the everpresent threat of disbanding was alleviated, though no one really relaxed, knowing the Major had alienated quite a few of the brass with his intervention on behalf of the various Special Forces teams. Garrison had a lot of respect for the man for that; for a career military officer to knowingly put himself on the line like that, in opposition to the big shots, well, that meant a lot.

Goniff had already left to make his way over; Garrison had lingered talking to Actor, til the conman made an impatient noise and said, "Craig, just go! You are making me nervous with this figeting! GO!", and with a slightly embarrassed laugh, Garrison had left the Mansion, headed for the Cottage. He entered to the sound of soft laughter from two throats, pausing with a smile to relish the sound, a sound that had come to mean, {"Well, admit it, Craig, that sound has come to mean 'home'."}.

She stood when he entered the room, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek, then "I'll see you in the morning; I've work to do in the middle cottage, and will sleep there tonight."

Craig looked at her in surprise; she wasn't in the habit of leaving, not anymore; if she didn't join them, she read or played music, or baked something for a special 'after' treat. With a warm and loving grin, though, she made her way out the back door, leaving him to turn to Goniff with a puzzled, "and what's all that about?"

The blond Englishman flushed slightly, "well, if you don't mind, tonight, tonight will be just us," to which Craig hastened to assure him, in a slightly roughened voice, "you know I don't mind, just she doesn't usually, you know, when she's here." He frowned, suddenly a bit worried, "she's alright, isn't she? Not sick or anything?" Then frowning even more, looking anxiously at Goniff, "she doesn't think she has to leave, that we don't want her here, surely?" 

Goniff chuckled in that deep raspy way he had, "no, it's nothing like that. Relax, sit." 

And, remembering how it'd been with Meghada, yet knowing it'd be different with Craig, with Craig only knowing about this custom from the telling, he shook his head in faint amusement. {"No telling how 'e'll take this, but I think 'e's ready, and Meghada thinks so too. Well, we'll see; we know even if 'e accepts, 'e'll keep it private; well, 'e'll 'ave to, won't 'e, but, at least we'll know."}

Goniff poured two glasses of Meghada's latest shipment of the family's bourbon, reaching out to sit one on the table next to Craig. Craig smiled and reached for it, but Goniff shook his head, "not yet, there's something else first, a gift, but only if you really want to accept it," and then, as Craig watched with some curiousity, Goniff turned away, reached for something tucked away on the sideboard, and turned back, holding it, balanced on his outstretched hand.

Craig felt his breath leave, rather as if he'd fallen from too high a place and landed on the ground; he raised his eyes to his lover's, he licked his lips, and whispered, "you want this? She is alright with this?" and received a fond grin in response.

"Yes, to both, if you want this as well."

Craig reached out to touch it, that leather band, joined with the metal clasp and chain, adorned with beads and small metal triangles, rather like miniature arrowheads, from which dangled a small cluster of feathers and the curved bird's claw. He rubbed his fingers along it, feeling the ornamentation, thinking about the implications, knowing this would change his life forever. Well, no, not change it, just this would be the acknowledging of that change that had already occurred, the formal accepting of it.

He brought his gaze back to the blue eyes watching him so carefully, "I won't be able to wear it in public, not anytime soon; it's not that I don't want to, but . . ." to get a relieved smile in return.

"And we both know that, don't expect anything different. But between us, between the three of us, the knowing, that means something, you know, and 'ere is a different story," and he nodded, his mouth moving into an incredulous smile, and tears came to his eyes, tears he blinked away rapidly.

"Taking this, well, Meghada's father says it makes you 'Curadh', The Warrior."

Craig felt a small smile come to his face, "and you?"

Goniff let a rather sheepish grin flow over his expressive face, "says it makes me 'Eileamh a Curadh', 'e Who Claims The Warrior. There's a wristband too, but just like with Meghada, I'm not to wear that til you ARE ready, ready and able to put the collar on and wear it out and about."

Craig Garrison ran his fingers over the collar once again. "How do I put it on, come, show me," he said in a hoarse voice, and he accepted the collar, felt the weight of it at his throat, a welcome weight, one that promised so much. Together, they drank from their glasses, and sat to talk of various and sundry things; rose to take a leisurely walk around the gardens, but had to cut it short when they realized they were both too anxious to wait. Back to the kitchen, into the bedroom, where their new union was celebrated, to the great joy of both of them. And in the middle cottage, in the midst of making out the lists for the next enclave shipment, she heard their voices singing out into the night, and rejoiced for them, for what it meant, for them all.


End file.
